Can't You Stop?
by Lizzy Wright
Summary: So they fight often. No biggie. AU. Quarterback!Quinn and Head Cheerleader!Santana.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning : OOC.**

**especially on Brittany's part.. because I'm not really a fan seeing her act like she doesn't know a thing.**

**So in here, Mike's dating Brittany and Kurt's in the football team. **

**And, obviously, Glee isn't mine. You know the drill. **

**Enjoy reading.**

* * *

"You fucking douchebag!"

"You're the one who started it, bitch."

"Yeah well, you made me fall!"

"I didn't fucking do anything, Santana!"

"Oh shit." Puck rolled his eyes.

Finn frowned, "again?"

Kurt cocked his hips, crossing his arms unamusedly, "LADIES!"

The field was breezy at this time of day, creating a dramatic effect for two women who were metaphorically bumping heads.

Kurt's shrill yell went unnoticed.

"Well you kept giving me provocative looks!" Quinn angrily shot back.

"That sounds dirty." Puck commented with a gross tone.

Both girls stopped a moment to glare at him. The boy gulped.

Both coaches had stopped caring about these fights ages ago since they found out it's an impossible flame to put out. So whenever practices had gone accordingly, and the quarterback and the head cheerleader started battling it out (which weirdly was always on the last minute of practice), the coaches headed out. Both the football team's, and Sue.

Even Sue.

"That doesn't mean you can insult me!"

"San, calm down." Brittany walked up behind the Santana, her skirt swirling, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Santana abruptly turned around, which startled Brittany.

"You saw what she did, Brittany!"

Brittany's expression twitched at the use of her full name.

"I, yeah, but you need to calm down. Remember last time you got in a fight with Quinn?"

Santana's expression turned into a horrific one.

"Coach said a beaten up face couldn't be on top of the pyramid. Or on the pyramid at all. Oh... She said something about chimpanzee but I can't remember."

Quinn crossed her arm irritatedly, waiting for the girls' forum to be done.

It's fucking hot in her helmet and she wanted to immediately change. Santana might be the one causing the fumes clouding her helmet.

Suddenly Santana turned to her with a menacing look, though calmer than before, and pointed a finger at her.

"Watch your back, Fabray."

Kurt placed a hand on his chest.

"We should start paying a homage to Brittany."

"Maybe we actually should." Mike mumbled.

"What was that?" Quinn turned around to her teammates, fury still clear on her expression.

"Nothing!"

* * *

"Take a deep breath." Brittany said child-likely as they walked down the hallway. Santana complied anyway.

"Quinn's a bitch." Santana gritted her teeth.

Brittany shrugged.

"She thinks she's at the top of the world just _because _she's the quarterback!"

"But you're also the head cheerleader." Brittany commented.

Santana turned to her, questioningly.

"Which means because you fought with her means you think you're at the top of the world too..?"

Santana blinked.

This was Brittany.

It's perfectly harmless and innocent.

But that? Just sent her furious mood out of the window.

She sighed.

"Whatever."

* * *

"The sexual tension? High. Check that."

"Checked." Mike wrote a checklist on his paper.

Kurt read aloud, "physically incapable to stop staring? check."

"Those are hatred stares!" Quinn protested.

"Check that." Mike added another checklist on his paper.

"Heated, competitive stares? Oh my God, yes. Absolute yes."

"Check." Mike said, check-listing another.

"Blush often around crush? Check. She has this red face whenever she fights with the devil."

"Check."

"That's a— that's not a blush! I was really angry and—"

"Complete. Okay, Quinn, based on this survey—Mike, hand me the paper."

Mike handed Kurt the paper.

"This means you aareeee.." He trailed off, before picking up the stupid magazine and read the result, "'one hundred and fifty percent in love'. Oh wow! You're going to hook up soon."

Quinn rolled her eyes, ripped the magazine out of Kurt's hand and slammed it on the bench.

"What are you even doing reading magazine in the locker room?"

"QUINN'S GOING TO HOOK UP SOON!" Kurt bellowed in the locker room.

The guys in the showers hollered.

"About time you bang that chick, Fabray!"

"I always knew something was going on."

"So many hot fights."

"I'm not hooking up with_ anyone_!" Quinn yelled back, face flushed, embarrassed.

Kurt smiled sweetly, "I took this with Finn and now he's dating Rachel."

"What?" Finn asked, confused.

"That's different, Kurt." Quinn said, irritated.

"Put on a t-shirt, Finn." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You're my brother." Finn said, fishing out a t-shirt from his locker.

"Doesn't mean I'm not grossed out."

Quinn sighed, "These guys take forever to shower."

Kurt shrugged, "Who says you have to be the only girl in a football team?"

* * *

"Morning Quinn!"

"Your fight with Santana got into the newspaper's headline."

"It's not even news anymore."

"Did you really rape Santana in the middle of the field?"

Quinn looked down at the tiny boy beside her, which had sparkling eyes, with a comical expression.

"We're gonna be late Quinn." Kurt pulled Quinn's arm.

"Did you— did you even hear what he said?" Asked Quinn unbelievingly.

"It's what you call false rumor."

"Too far from the truth!" Quinn protested.

"Then don't fight with the head cheerleader _everyday_, Q." A girl beside the quarterback admonished the latter.

"That way you won't be on the headline _everyday_. People apparently don't get bored seeing your and Santana's faces there." Quinn looked up to the taller blonde; her best friend since freshman year.

She rolled her eyes, "She's the one picking fights."

Hayley rolled her eyes back, "Just get out of that drama 2.0 club and join me in cross-country. Less dramatic."

* * *

"Hey, bitch. Move over."

Quinn looked up to come face to face with Santana Lopez, hovering over her with a scowl on her face and arms crossed on her chest.

Quinn glanced pleadingly at the chemistry teacher on the front of the class.

He shook his head.

Fuck.

"Are you deaf?" Santana asked, cocking her hips, "I said move _over_."

Quinn sighed, knowing there were a bunch of kids watching, waiting for a fight sequel from yesterday's episode.

She quietly moved her stool and let Santana pulled another stool from another table and set one beside her.

Yep. They're lab partners.

Terrific, right?

Kids sitting on the front of their table quickly migrated to another table with a frightened expression.

Quinn groaned and put her head down on her table.

"Hey, lazy ass," Quinn picked up her head at the sound of Santana calling her and insulting her at the same time, "pass me that clear water beside you."

Quinn, confusedly, picked up the only clear water beside her.

"Is that—"

"Ethanoic Acid. Geeze, after a fight happens you never listen to that idiotic teacher and I have to do all the work."

Quinn frowned, "It's not my fault these kids couldn't stop staring at me like I'm going to eat you alive or something."

Santana ignored her, "give me the flask."

"But shouldn't we—"

"Just shut the fuck up and pass me the flask."

Quinn was not in the mood of getting restless, which would happen if she was angry. So she bitterly complied.

So she let it happen as usual. Santana did all the work, defying the stereotypes and the rumors that said that she was a dumb whore that cheated off on other students for every exam, and Quinn just watched her with a lazy expression.

"Next time I'm not doing all the work. They're all losers, why do you even care? Fill this in to glassware on the right corner." Santana grumbled, her hands moving nonstop.

Quinn shrugged helplessly and did what Santana said.

Contrary to what everybody thought, Quinn and Santana could actually stand to be in the same room. Or same seat. Or same group. And same task, working together without pulling each other's hair out.

Their every fight actually had a reason why it started, like the first one they had, it's because Santana didn't like Quinn's cocky expression the first time the girl had the quarterback title on.

While it's silly, the times they didn't have a reason, they got along.

Kinda.

"Riley's throwing a party tonight at her house."

"Whs rlley." Quinn mumbled into her arms, her head buried in them.

Santana rolled her eyes.

"Freshman, Cheerios. You'd help everybody by not coming."

"Yeah thanks. I'll come just to annoy the shit outta you." Quinn sighed, closing her eyes.

Santana narrowed her eyes, "You really don't want us to make it into Mr. Boring's blacklist, do you?"

Quinn sullenly looked to the side.

"No."

* * *

Brittany sat on the edge of Santana's bed, watching the other girl applying her make up.

"Want me to do your hair?" The blonde asked, tilting her head side to side.

Santana glanced at Brittany from the mirror, and chuckled.

"You're bored, aren't you?"

Brittany nodded.

"Yeah okay, please make me hot."

The blonde giggled, and stood up from the bed.

She grabbed the curling iron from the nightstand and plugged in the stop-contact.

They let silence filled the room for awhile as Brittany started doing Santana's hair.

"Is Quinn gonna be there?"

Santana scoffed, "I guess. Yeah. She told me she'd be there just to annoy me."

Brittany grinned, "You two are weird."

Santana huffed, "She's the freak one."

Brittany shushed the girl, "she's actually nice."

Santana hummed.

"Whatever you say, Britt."

* * *

"Here's the dress for the night, wear it. You've got approximately one hour before we go and prepare yourself. Kurt insisted you go. I have no say in this."

Quinn stared, dumbfounded, at the door as Hayley closed the door to her room. She shook her head and hung the dress in front of her.

She groaned.

_I have no choice, now._

* * *

**Well I'm gonna go to sleep now.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**These two are lovely. **

**Oh and thank you for the reviews, gets my mood to start writing again. Constructive criticisms would be very much appreciated. **

**Glee's not mine, obviously.**

**Enjoy reading.**

* * *

Glancing at Quinn from the rearview mirror, Kurt smiled knowingly.

The blonde girl was wringing her hands together, playing with her fingers and occasionally Hayley would pat her thigh from the front seat in order to calm her down. Quinn sighed.

"Thinking about your crush?"

"Shut it, Kurt. I'm tired."

The kicker smiled sympathetically.

"She really drains your energy, doesn't she?"

"I just don't know what her problem is," Quinn sighed, "she just bitch at me constantly and I didn't even do anything!"

"If it helps, no, you did." Kurt replied.

"First fight, your 'cocky look' when you told Puck you beat him into being the quarterback irritated her."

Quinn opened her mouth, ready to argue.

"Second fight, you accidentally threw a football to a cheerleader's face while playing around."

Kurt continued, "Third fight, which was partially my fault, you thought pranking Santana's locker would be a great idea."

Both women stared at him.

Kurt nodded solemnly, "I agreed and helped you do it."

Hayley continued, "Fourth fight—"

"Okay, fine, I get it, I get it," Quinn huffed petulantly, "but this last fight really doesn't have any reason. Like, at all."

Kurt glanced at Hayley. The latter just shrugged.

"You sure you didn't do anything?"

"Not that I remember of. She just started mocking me and making faces while the practice was on. Not to mention she was on top of the pyramid, and Sue didn't even comment on her."

Quinn leaned on the car door and looked out of the window, "Are we near?"

"Her house is after the next right turn." Hayley informed her.

Kurt whistled a little bit, neither of Quinn's best friends had anything to say to comment on Quinn's last rant about the Queen Bee.

"Oh, speaking about it, how did your date go?"

Quinn raised her eyebrow, "Which?"

"With Liz, that brunette you met at the bar? Don't even act like you forget." Hayley huffed, leaning on her elbow.

"I went because you forced me to. I don't really like her so I think.. no. First date's enough."

"Okay we're here, ladies! Get your skinny asses out of my car, we're going in."

* * *

The three of them immediately parted once they were in the house, playing with other people. Quinn started goofing off with Mike on the dance floor with Brittany's consent (he's her girlfriend), Hayley went off flirting with some handsome boy with blue eyes, and Kurt quickly went somewhere and suspiciously disappeared.

And it wasn't long before they were tired of shuffling around from people to people, and Kurt was the first to sit and drink.

"Oh hello, best friend, " Hayley sat on the empty spot beside Kurt on the loveseat, "You look single and sad. Go find some guy to hook up with."

Kurt grimaced, "I'm not you. Where did the boy you were dry humping with go?"

Hayley rolled her eyes, "We were purely _talking, _thank you. Wait, Kurt."

Kurt hummed, picking up his drink and took a sip.

"So, Quinn's date—"

"Liz?"

"Yes."

"What's wrong with her?"

"She's fantastic, it's not that—"

"You've slept with her, haven't you?"

Hayley sighed, "Shit, you caught me. Anyway—"

"You _slut_."

"Stop interrupting me you ass."

Kurt laughed loudly and placed his drink on the small table in front of the loveseat, giving Hayley his full attention.

"You may speak."

"You do remember Quinn's date is two days before Santana and Quinn fought, don't you?"

Kurt blinked.

"And you remember how the day after the school was buzzing because Quinn's never accepted to go on a date before?"

"The forced date was your doing, Hayley. So technically she didn't accept that date."

"Would you two just stop reminding me of that fact? Well, their practices on the day after was pretty messed up."

Kurt hummed in acknowledgement, nodding, taking his drink, sipping, choking, putting his drink back and patting his chest.

"Are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"

"Your mind's pretty fucked up so you would have to spell it out because I don't know."

Kurt narrowed his eyes. He looked around, before leaning forward and whispered, "Santana's jealous?"

Hayley nodded.

"I think she was."

"As much as I like to tease her about their 'connection'," Kurt winced, "I didn't think it would really happen."

"Well, I don't know. It's just another speculation."

Kurt shook his head, "You can put that in the stack of thousand others to be published on the school's newspaper."

* * *

"Hey, Riley!" Quinn approached the owner of the house, hoping that she had the right person.

The girl turned around, and suddenly her expression grew flirty.

Quinn was thrown aback for a second.

"Um, do you have a bathroom I can use? I touched something in the kitchen and it's pretty sticky. I don't really want to find out what that was." The blonde grinned sheepishly.

"It's upstairs, the last room that had a cow sticker on the door. Want me to escort you there?"

Quinn laughed nervously, "No thank you I'm okay." She quickly bolted upstairs.

* * *

"Shittiest time of my life," Quinn sang quietly in _I've Had The Time Of My Life _tone as she tried to get through throngs of people to the stairs , "God. People."

She's feeling pretty shitty. She's tired, got into another fight with the HBIC, namely Santana Lopez, and now she's forced to go into party and let loose which was _so _not her theme.

"Hey, Fabray!"

Quinn rolled her eyes, and kept pushing through the crowd, not interested in knowing who called her. Probably just one of those horny guys looking for conquest for the night.

On the corner of her eyes, she thought she saw Brittany dancing alone in the dance floor. Knowing these headless jerks, she'd have to text Mike to make sure Brittany's okay for the night. Which puzzled her.

Santana wasn't with Brittany.

She scrunched her eyebrows as she stared at Brittany. Normally, _Santana _would be the one keeping an eye on Brittany while Mike's not there. Quinn knew. That's practically on guys' unwritten rule. _Do not touch Brittany if Santana's with her. _The taller blonde's 'easy' reputation didn't quickly dissipate after dating Mike, so guys still liked to nag her.

So she sent a quick text to Mike and continued her fight with the drunkards upstairs.

Once she reached the stairs, high enough that she was above people's heads, she saw a guy that accosted Brittany. She danced enough in parties (which she went to without her consent) to know he's up to no good. So she quickly took some Ping-Pong ball that was weirdly on the stairs and threw it. Bull's-eye.

Somewhere in the corner, Santana was watching.

* * *

"I thought you said you wanted to party." Quinn said amusedly as she approached them both.

Kurt huffed, "Yeah, we did. We're just—mustering up energy to, you know, wild it out."

"I'm sure that's the reason. Gimme some room, guys." Quinn moved forward, tapping both of her best friends' laps.

"Uh, no. Find your own seat. Have you met with your girlfriend?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, tired of correcting them anymore, "No. I don't know what the hell her problem is."

"And I don't know yours. You clearly have some self-issues there if you don't know what 's clearly obnoxious about you."

Both Kurt's and Hayley's eyes widened.

"Look, Santana, not now," Quinn turned around, to find her under some drunk guy's arm, "Oh great. Your new boy toy for the month."

Santana rolled her eyes and shoved the guy's arm off her shoulders, "I told you to fucking stop touching me!" She yelled to the guy, before mumbling, "Horndog."

Quinn raised her eyebrow.

Santana fumed, before pointing a finger at Quinn, "Shut your mouth." Before storming out.

Hayley hummed, "You two are like siblings."

"She'd be the best sibling anyone could ever ask for because now I want to hit her so _bad. _Is it pure water in your glass? I need that."

* * *

It's been two hours since she stepped in the house. Since Brittany had Mike with her, Santana wasn't too worried about leaving the blonde to get some fresh air outside. She'd just text later.

She cursed inwardly, leaving a heavy sigh as she finally stepped out of the house and away from the blaring music.

She stepped out and threw away the drink a guy gave her.

"Yes?"

Santana looked to the left. She immediately rolled her eyes.

_Just my luck. Quinn Fabray._

And it appeared she's talking on the phone.

"No, I'm not alone, Mom." Quinn glanced to her right.

Santana decided to mess with her.

"Oh, Quinnie, put your drink down," Santana said, loud enough for Judy to hear it over the phone, "wouldn't want to get drunk now, do we?"

Quinn glared at Santana, gently pushing the girl away. She really didn't want to lose her temper right now.

"_Quinn, who is that?"_

Santana blinked. Apparently the (not) fact that her daughter was close to getting drunk didn't bother her the slightest.

"It's just my—"

"_Is it your girlfriend?"_

Both girls' eyes widened.

"Mom, no, she's—"

_"Give her the phone!" _her mom sounded so enthusiastic, and Quinn didn't have the heart to crush her mood. So she handed it to Santana.

Santana shook her head furiously, clearly didn't think she'd be involved in this way.

Quinn mouthed to her, _Just take the freaking phone._

Santana grimaced, holding the phone to her ear.

"Um, Hello, Mrs. Fabray?"

* * *

**Cliché. Mrs. Fabray would give a progress to Quinntana, but not a start. You know what I mean?**

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I just realized that the name I gave for Quinn's failed date was the same name as my username.**

**I guess I have something against that name...**

**Big, big thanks for everyone who reviews and follows and favorites and reads this :D **

**And um, I rated this M because of the language, not because I was going to include smut in this. or maybe I will, I don't know. Soo... You know. ...**

**Glee isn't mine. Enjoy reading.**

* * *

"I hate you for getting me into this."

"You're the one getting yourself in."

"You forced me to 'take the freaking phone'!"

Quinn snapped, "What else was I supposed to do?"

She groaned and slammed her head back against the headrest as she drove.

"Don't take your eyes off the road. I don't want my last moments of living to be with you."

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Aren't you sweet."

"You owe me big time, Fabray."

"Uh, no, I don't. Unless you want your secret out, no, I don't."

Santana frowned, having a flashback of the little conversation she had with Mrs. Fabray.

Or Judy.

* * *

_"Oh, sweetie, I can already tell you have a gorgeous physique. I can't even fathom how someone like you would want to be Quinn's—"_

_"Okay mom that's enough thank you." Quinn was about to rip her phone out of Santana's hand._

_"Let me talk with your girlfriend or you're grounded for a month."_

_Quinn halted her movement and quietly stomped her foot on the ground, muttering, "Shit."_

_"Um, Mrs. Fabray—"_

_"Oh, dear, call me Judy."_

_"Uh… okay? Would it be okay if I give the phone to Quinn? Um, she looks like she wants to talk to you _really _bad." Santana looked at Quinn and motioned for her to take the phone. Quinn just glared, shook her head and held her hands up._

_"I'm sure she's already bored of listening to me. Tell you what, dear, would it be okay for you to come to our house tonight?"_

_Santana's eyes widened. _

_She pointed a finger to Quinn's iPhone and soundlessly called for Quinn._

_Quinn just averted her eyes and pressed her lips together. It was only three seconds later that Santana realized she was holding in her laughter._

… Bitch.

_"Uh," Santana laughed nervously, "I think, um, I'm sure Quinn still wants to hang out here?"_

_It was more a question than a statement. And Quinn palmed her face._

_"Nonsense. Tell Quinn I'm expecting you both here in 10. Bye, sweetie, careful on the way."_

_Click._

_"I'm not going. Deal with this yourself, bye bye!" Santana threw the phone to Quinn who scrambled to catch it. The tan girl was about to open the door to the house when Quinn caught her arm._

_"You were in love with Rachel once." Quinn said breathlessly._

_Santana turned to Quinn with big, wide eyes, "What the—? No I weren't!"_

_"I have my _trustable _sources," Santana's expression turned into one of fear, "now, I really hate to do this and I mean it, but if you don't go, my mom's going to ground me longer than that. And your secret will be out."_

_Quinn released Santana's arm, and crossed her own._

_Santana's jaw fell open, "Did you just _blackmail _me?"_

_Quinn nodded. "Oh yes I did."_

* * *

"We're heeeeere." Quinn sang with fake enthusiasm, smiling falsely.

Santana smiled back falsely, "You don't know how much I hate you right now."

"I have an idea about that. Wait, let me text Hayley and Kurt first."

_Should go back home. I'm with Santana. Details later. May not go back._

_Xo_

Santana rolled her eyes.

"We've always fought," Quinn said, locking her phone, "just tonight, please, help me?"

Santana furrowed her eyebrows, "Did you just say please?"

"Yes I did. It's not in the agreement, but I'll treat you to something later. I promise. Just act like a sweet girlfriend and don't let me get grounded. She's going to freak if she knows I'm lying to her."

"Then don't lie to her and let me go back!"

Quinn sighed and her face went bored, "You don't know my mother. Now out of my car, we're going inside."

Santana got out of the car and grazed her pocket, relieved to know that she still had her phone. She figured she should also text Brittany to let her know.

Quinn slammed her car door close and saw Santana looking down.

"What the hell are you doing?" She whispered loudly.

"Texting Brittany, asshole. Why do you always yell at me?"

"Because you do," Quinn sighed, "let's just go inside and get this over with."

Santana stuffed her phone back in her pocket and walked forward, staring at a house that looked… warm. The typical dream house. It was clearly big, and cozy, and…

"Quinn?"

Quinn hummed as they walked forward.

"Whose car is that?"

Quinn looked to where Santana was pointing. Her eyes grew wide.

"Shit my dad's h—"

"QUINN."

The door slammed open, and they both weren't even on the porch of the house. Santana had to literally squint from the sudden incandescent light that illuminated from inside.

"Honey, don't get too excited, you're scaring her." A man, that was triple Santana's size, got out from behind Judy.

"Dad, you're home pretty early." Quinn walked to the front porch and greeted the man, which now Santana knew as her father, and hugged him.

"Yeah…" He trailed off, "Actually, your mom called me. Said you have a girl you're bringing home? I wouldn't miss this. You never bring anyone home. Actually, you never even mentioned one before."

Quinn gave away a smile that resembled more of a grimace.

She was about to tell Santana to come forward only to find the tan girl already hugged by her mom. She suppressed a laugh.

Santana noticed this, and because she wasn't able to bitch Quinn out right now, she settled for grinning falsely at her.

Judy (finally) released Santana, "Quinnie, she's even more gorgeous that I imagined!"

Quinn forced out a grin, "Of course she is. How did you imagine her to be, anyway?"

"I always imagined you to choose a girl with tattoos full on her body, you know, piercings," Judy motioned to her ear, "this is a very nice surprise, I should say."

This time it was Santana trying to hold back laughter as Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Nice mom, thank you."

Judy turned to Santana, as Russell waited patiently behind her, "Sweetie, I haven't—"

Quinn quickly cut her off and placed a hand on Santana's back to guide her to the door, "Let's just settle the introduction inside because Santana's freezing outside, shall we?"

Russell laughed, "Of course, of course. You like Italian, uh… Santana, right?"

"Lopez, Mr. Fabray. Santana Lopez." Santana said politely.

"That's what I was trying to ask." Judy protested.

"In, mom." Quinn said, taking hold of Santana's hand. Santana looked at Quinn strangely, and Quinn replied by squeezing her hand a little tighter, giving an underlying message. _Play along._

"So you like Italian?" Russell asked, as they got inside.

Santana smiled politely, "I actually love them, Mr. Fabray."

Russell waved his hand, "Call me Russell."

Quinn raised her eyebrow.

_She has a polite side. That's.. interesting._

"Oh, while I prepare the dish out, you three can wait in the living room. _Friends _rerun is on."

"_Really?_"

The surprising thing was, the one saying it wasn't only Quinn. The latter looked at Santana in surprise.

Russell raised his eyebrow, "They are a match made in heaven."

"Can we eat in front of the TV?" Quinn asked, giving her mother her best pleading look.

"Nope. But watch it now before I'm finished preparing."

The girls both rushed to the living room, Santana trailing behind Quinn, Russell chuckling amusedly behind them.

"You like _Friends_?" Quinn asked in disbelief as they sat down. Santana, instinctively, sat down on the seat the furthest from where Quinn was sitting.

Santana sushed her at the same time Russell got into the living room. The man grinned.

"No need to play shy. I know what teenagers these days are up to," He paused, " actually not much different from when it were my days."

Quinn and Santana looked at each other, perplexed.

"Go sit beside your girlfriend, Santana. It would be weird for me to sit in the middle of you two."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr.—"

"Russell."

"Russell…" Santana trailed off as she got up from the other couch and approached the one Quinn was sitting on. Her self-conscious still put a slight space between her and Quinn.

"How nice," Russell commented, "you look good together."

Quinn forced a grin. Santana's expression suddenly went mischievous, and Quinn noticed that. She became wary.

"Quinn's the sweetest girl, Mr.—"

"Russell."

Santana cleared her throat, "Russell."

"She actually said she would take me to Breadstix tomorrow, didn't you, Quinn?"

Quinn gave Santana a warning, false smile, "Of course."

"Oh," Russell said, smiling, "That's great. I also love breadstix."

"I'm not taking you to my date, Dad."

"Sure, sure, of course!" Russell held his hands up, laughing.

Santana grinned slyly. Quinn internally groaned.

"And she also said she would—"

"Dinner's ready!"

As Russell got up, Quinn whispered only loud enough for Santana to hear.

"I'm going to _get _you."

* * *

"So, Santana," Santana perked up when Russell started talking, "are you in any club at school? Or are you also in the football team with Quinn?"

Santana's antics suddenly stopped when dinner was served. There was a change in her expression that was out of her… usual character.

When they got to the dinner table and Russell, along with Judy, were already in their seats and Russell motioned for Santana to come sit (they didn't even ask their own daughter to sit, how rude), something in her expression changed.

She's not sure it's something positive.

"I'm, um," Santana cleared her throat, "I'm a cheerleader."

Both her parents' eyes went wide at this admission.

"She's the _head_ cheerleader." Quinn corrected for her, indifferently eating her meal like tomorrow was nonexistent.

"You're dating—did you give Santana drugs?" Judy asked to Quinn, her expression was comically horrified.

Quinn groaned, "Why do you both think I'm so incompetent?"

Russell picked up his spoon and resumed eating, "No I don't. That's just your mother."

"I'm sorry, honey, but knowing you, I can't even imagine you dating anyone," Judy sighed, "you always told me _dating sucks. _So I just gave up hoping to ever have one grandchild. But here you are, bringing a girl." Judy smiled sweetly.

Santana swallowed hard at the mention of grandchild. But it didn't stop her for saying to Quinn earnestly, "Your parents are cool, Q." Judy just said a bad word in front of them and Russell and Quinn didn't even budge. _What kind of family is this?_

Santana internally scoffed, _definitely not mine, though._

Quinn almost raised her eyebrow. _Q? _

Russell let out a loud laugh, "You're certainly one amusing girl for being so tiny."

Santana didn't even have an offended look when Russell just unconsciously insulted her. Now Quinn was officially weirded out.

"I assume you met her from the field?" Russell asked.

Santana chuckled almost emotionlessly, "Most would think that, but no," she glanced at Quinn with an earnest expression that would have fooled her, "first time I saw Quinn was when she gloated at my then-boyfriend that she beat him to the quarterback position."

Quinn widened her eyes. _Oh great. Next she's going to bitch me out in front of my parents while still looking like the perfect girlfriend. Nice._

"Wait, what?"

Santana turned questioningly at Quinn.

"You dated.. _Puck? _Of all people? He's a man whore."

"Quinn, bad word."

"You also said a bad word before."

"I was quoting you."

"Now, now, no need to be jealous." Russell said, putting his fork and spoon down.

"I'm not jealous!"

Santana rolled her eyes, "It wasn't anything serious, Quinn," then her expression grew fond, "now I'm with you, anyway."

_Whoa. Good actress._

"And then? What happened?" Judy asked to Santana, eyes filled with curiosity.

"I kind of… berated her," Santana said, "then she... berated me back. Then we fought. That's how we first knew each other."

Silence. Deafening silence.

Suddenly, her parents broke out into cheers.

"You're allowed to marry my daughter!"

"You're welcome in this house anytime, sweetie."

Quinn was pretty sure that ethnic people don't blush.

But she was _also _pretty sure that Santana just _blushed. _Santana Lopez. The Head Bitch she was constantly _fighting_ with.

Quinn furrowed her eyebrows, clearly puzzled. She didn't understand. What the fuck was wrong with Santana?

"You should invite your parents here sometime soon. We'll have dinner together, or maybe in Breadstix." Russell said, pointing his spoon at Santana.

The latter grew quiet. Then she spoke.

"Um, actually, it's just me and my mom."

Movements of metallic utensils that were previously making the most noises stopped. Even Quinn stopped.

"Oh, uh," Judy stuttered, "is he, I mean—"

Russell nudged her hand. Judy gave him an apologetic expression. Quinn was actually quiet, watching Santana's every move.

"He, uhm, he..." Santana cleared her throat, "He died."

"Sweetie I'm sorry—"

"It's okay, Judy," It's the first time that Santana had ever cut Judy off, "um, can I go outside for a moment?"

"Sure. Of course." Russell answered with a confused expression, didn't know what else to do. He glanced at Quinn, jerking his head toward Santana as the brunette stood up and headed for the door.

Quinn, with a puzzled expression etched on her face, stood up after Santana closed the front door and headed outside.

_Who in all the Holy did I bring home?_

* * *

**Santana has some issues. But that's for later.**

**Big thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**My internet kind of sucks right now. And I also kind of suck right now. So, yeah..**

**I'm listening to ****_I Wish You Love_**** Michael Bublé's version, and ****_I'll Never Smile Again _****by Frank Sinatra. So I guess that had great impact in this chapter's writing?**

**You're the kindest readers. Thank you for supporting this fic to continue, enjoy reading :)**

* * *

Quinn reluctantly stepped onto the front porch.

Santana was sitting on the stair in front of her. If she heard Quinn opening the door, she definitely didn't show it. Which she _should_ had heard_. _Since the door was like a wooden old door that had the loudest creak ever.

She might be exaggerating at that part, but really. Santana should have heard.

Gritting her teeth, she crossed her arms. She looked around and bit her lip, contemplating her action. Finally, her little good heart won, and she cautiously stepped forward to take tentative steps towards the stairs before finally sitting down. Santana didn't even look anywhere near her direction.

"Santana?"

Silence.

More silence.

"Are your parents mad?"

Quinn looked startled at Santana's voice. She didn't want to assume, but… _Is she crying?_

She pressed her lips together, before finally answering, "No, they're concerned about you."

Santana's face was still looking away from her. Quinn was only looking at the back of her head when the tan girl slowly nodded.

"I'm okay." She said, obviously trying to be firm.

_Clearly you're not. _Quinn had wanted to say. But she bit her tongue.

Quinn took a deep breath, before releasing it in a loud huff, which created a little mist in front of her.

"I'm sorry."

At Quinn's apology, Santana turned her head to Quinn's direction, her expression questioning and confused. The blonde's eyes widened slightly, and her mouth opened in the slightest bit.

_Gorgeous _passed her mind. And it froze her for a moment longer. Until she noticed the red-rimmed eyes from the face she was (not) admiring and she snapped out of it.

"Great," Quinn muttered, breaking the eye-contact with Santana and looked down, clasping her hands together and pressing them, "I'm—I'm going to tell my parents you're not feeling good and I'll drive you home. You wait here."

Quinn was propping her body with her hand to stand up when Santana grabbed her wrist with an urgent look.

"No! Don't!"

Santana was biting her bottom lip really, _really _hard, and the vulnerable look she had made Quinn's mouth agape.

That was until the tan girl broke into sobs.

Quinn bulged her eyes out, internally screaming and her heart clenched hard without her own consent. And without her realizing it, she found herself holding Santana close to her chest with her own head in Santana's neck. And the more surprising thing was, Santana didn't fight her.

"Oh shit sorry Santana—"

Santana didn't let go. She only hugged Quinn tighter. The blonde felt her heart warming all the sudden.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asked, before feeling stupid, "Of course you're not, what the hell was I asking?"

Santana continued to sob, and Quinn was increasingly feeling worse.

"I'm sorry for blackmailing you with the Rachel—thing," Quinn said, placing her hand on Santana's small back, "that was a low blow. I didn't really want to do that, I promise." She bit the inside of her cheek.

"I—didn't know what other way you'll come with me," Quinn rambled on, "but I promise, I'm not that kind of person. I'll tell you my most embarrassing secret later so we're even."

She felt Santana shook a bit at this, and she figured the other girl was laughing, even a little. She smiled slightly.

Silence followed, other than Santana's occasional sobs. They were still holding each other like a lover from an outsider's view, with Quinn who helplessly hugged Santana tighter every time Santana's sob went a little more erratic and it felt like she was going to cry harder.

"You gonna tell me what's going on?" Quinn asked. She knew that she asked more than she should have, but the darkness of her knowledge was kind of killing her insides.

Santana didn't respond, and Quinn figured as much.

They were just hating each other a moment before, why start getting all sweet and friendly now?

"Alright," Quinn patted Santana's head and released the cheerio, "my keys are still in my pocket. I'll drive you home."

This time, Santana objected, with sobs interrupting her talk, "B—but your—"

"I'll text them, they wouldn't mind. Let's go."

The night ended with Santana still breathtakingly being her gorgeous self in her dress(no, Quinn didn't notice that), sitting in the passenger seat with Quinn pulling over in front of Santana's house.

Quinn bit her lower lip, restraining herself from asking if she's going to be okay.

"Uhhh," Quinn hesitated, "Is this it?" Quinn asked, asking if the house was the right one. It was totally dark. That was weird. _Isn't anyone home? At all? There's her mom, right?_

Santana nodded, and Quinn unlocked the car.

They didn't move for long, with Quinn still hesitating, and Santana looking down.

Suddenly, the latter moved. Santana leaned to the driver's seat, closing the distance between them, and pressed her lips against Quinn's cheek.

And before Quinn even had time to process or even being shocked about it, Santana was out of her car and unceremoniously heading for her house without even looking back.

It was until the head cheerleader had the front door to her own home closed, disappearing from Quinn's view, that the Blonde just realized, after being frozen, that she was just kissed on the cheek.

By _Santana._

* * *

Quinn woke up by the loud ring from her phone that she didn't even remember placing on her nightstand last night. She blindly reached for it and accidentally knocking her phone down to the carpeted floor.

She groaned, trying to get up by propping herself by the elbows. She extended her arm as long as it would go, trying to turn off her alarm and go back to sleep as soon as possible.

And then in all of a sudden, the memories from last night came rushing back to her head, clouding her mind with the simple kiss that landed on her cheek last night.

She froze with her arm stretching down, her alarm blaring through her room.

It was then her mother yelled out, "Quinn, turn your alarm off!"

That she realized that she really couldn't go back to sleep and shed the bedcover off her body. She then took a towel and headed for the bathroom; oblivious to the dozen texts she had received in her phone.

* * *

She spent that day mulling over the same question.

_Why?_

_Why why why why why?_

She groaned quietly and pressed her head against the table, before deciding that she definitely couldn't concentrate and she needed to get out of the classroom that would waste her time.

Excusing herself out of the room wasn't such a hard task; she had always been a good actress. And she felt like being alone that day, so she decided to just ditch everything (she's ignorant like that when she wanted it) and kind of avoided her best friends (she still replied to their texts. Especially the ones they sent this morning). She'd just study later from another student's notes.

* * *

_"Where are you?"_

"Somewhere. Why?"

_"Kurt's freaking out because you're missing football practice. He's worried if last night Santana finally had the chance to torture you to death and the one answering our texts today is her."_

"He sounds healthy."

_"That he is. Are you going to tell us what actually happened last night?"_

Quinn bit her lower lip, "It's kind of not my place to tell."

Hayley was silent for a bit, _"We understand," _Hayley didn't speak for a second, _"by the way, your girlfriend is attending the cheerios practice right now. Shame you're not here."_

"She's not my girlfriend," She wanted to ask what Hayley was even doing on the football field, but she had a more important question in mind, "how is she?"

_"How is she? … What kind of question is that?" _

"I mean—how does she look?"

_"Awesome. Heating it up there on top of the pyramid, woohoo," _Quinn could practically see Hayley fanning herself, _"surely a nice sight for sore eyes."_

Quinn rolled her eyes hard, "Hayley."

_"What?"_

"I'm asking a serious question here. How is her—expression? Is there something different or—anything. "

Hayley furrowed her eyebrows, _"Well, she does look like she doesn't want to be there. The demon they call Coach keep yelling at her to 'fix' her expression and 'put an ugly smile on that meaningless, cheap face'."_

Quinn closed her eyes and sighed heavily.

_"Q? What's wrong?"_

"I'll talk to you later."

* * *

The day went by surprisingly breezy. Metaphorically. And by breezy, she meant stormy.

Santana Lopez was wrapping a towel around her body, fresh out of the shower. She walked devastatingly slow to her own locker, until suddenly someone bumped her hips from her side. She looked to the side. Upon seeing a flash of blonde hair, her eyes widened slightly.

"What's wrong with you today?" Brittany asked, linking their pinkies and out of habit, swinging their arms back and forth.

Santana chuckled humorlessly, "Well, gee, I sucked today, didn't I?"

"Nah," Brittany skewed her mouth, "Coach was being an ass again. Don't take it to heart, San."

Santana huffed, "Yeah. She's always an ass, but I also sucked today at practice." She untangled their pinkies and unlocked her locker, picking the stuff she needed. Brittany did the same. She stared at Santana from her own locker, which was beside Santana's.

"What happened last night at Quinn's?"

Santana froze at this.

"How did you know?" She turned to Brittany. The latter shrugged, taking a water bottle from her locker.

"You're sad all day. I guessed it has something to do with yesterday," Brittany passed her bottle to Santana, "want some?"

Santana waved her hand, "No, you drink."

Santana fumbled with the insides of her locker for several long moments, before finally Brittany sighed and called her best friend softly.

"Santana."

Santana looked down, before looking Brittany in the eye.

"I'll tell you when we get to my car, okay?"

Brittany nodded and leaned against the locker, waiting for her best friend to finish changing.

"Santana!"

Both the blonde and the brunette looked up at this, staring at their fellow redhead teammate that was also in her senior year.

"Quinn's outside. She's asking for you."

"Um, okay, thanks."

Santana looked over to Brittany, her eyes wide. Brittany blinked, before asking Santana after the redhead had gone away.

"You want me to come with..." Brittany motioned with her hand to the door of their locker room. Santana bit her lower lip before shaking her head.

"Wait for me in my car, okay? I'll give you my keys."

* * *

Santana stepped out of the door with Brittany in tow, also with several other cheerleaders who eyed Quinn curiously. Their whispers weren't exactly low.

"I knew those fights were leading to somewhere."

Brittany shooed them away.

Quinn didn't say a thing when she saw the two-shot got out of the door, casually leaning against the locker beside the door with a serene expression.

Brittany eyed Quinn, who blinked back at Brittany. That girl could be scary when she's mad, especially about stuff concerning her best friend. But the taller blonde just smiled at her with that genuine Brittany-smile of hers, before rubbing Santana's arm.

"You sure?"

Santana nodded, "Yeah."

Brittany nodded back, before turning to Quinn and gave the shorter blonde a little cheery wave, "Bye Quinn!"

Quinn chuckled a little and waved back, "Bye, Britt."

Santana was quiet, grasping her stuff with one hand and the other gripping the strap of her backpack that she slung only over one shoulder.

She hesitated a bit before finally letting some words out, "Tell your parents I'm sorry about last night."

Quinn looked surprised by the apology.

Santana had a drastic change since last night. Normally, they would exchange profanities in a shallow way, fighting occasionally and insulting the other in every chance they got. But now, Santana wasn't even looking her in the eye as if she wasn't even aware Quinn was there.

"Why—"Quinn cut herself off, hesitating, "Was it because of my parents?"

Santana opened her mouth, before closing it again.

Quinn was obviously puzzled. Her parents were so welcoming yesterday. If Quinn were to be asked, she'd even say too welcoming. They would even agree if Quinn asked to be married right there and then. Oh wait…

…

Did Santana hate them so much that she cried…?

Hating her parents would be much an understatement (like come on) but… wow, she would have to talk to her parents tonight to tone it down. _God_. Quinn internally rolled her eyes.

"No, they were, uh, they were lovely."

Quinn raised her eyebrow.

"Certainly not if you cried after being ambushed by them last night."

Santana chuckled at that, and Quinn smiled upon seeing her chuckle. That was certainly… refreshing.

"No it's not—" Santana shook her head, "They just remind me of—stuff."

Quinn widened her eyes at this. She was _not _stupid.

_So it was her dad._

Quinn looked down, crossing her arms, before looking back up to Santana who looked so unsure and not comfortable talking about last night that she just wanted to hug her.

_What? _

_No, what am I thinking?_

"Say what, I did promise you Breadstix," Quinn said, trying to send a smile Santana's way that she hoped look neither creepy nor weird, "you pick the date. I really owe you big time. My parents were ecstatic. Well, aside from, you know."

Santana's eyes lit up at this. Before in an instant, they dimmed again. She looked like some sort of realization hit her.

"No, it's okay. Forget Breadstix," Santana suddenly said, "actually, thank you."

Quinn furrowed her eyebrows.

"For last night." Santana smiled slightly, just the slightest, before it was gone in a flash. Fortunate Quinn had a chance of seeing it, and her heartbeat sped up just a little bit faster.

"Bye, Quinn." Santana said, and she walked past Quinn without even offering her a last glance.

Imagine her surprise when she found herself grabbing Santana's arm.

Santana looked up in surprise, clearly not the only one a little surprised by the sudden action.

Quinn looked down sheepishly, before determination set in her expression along with a soft smile.

"I insist."

* * *

**I actually wanted to say something, but forget it.**

**Quinn's not the kind of person who offends first. I like to think of her as the kind one. ****Actually, I like to think of all people that way.. hence Quinn's parents. Aand there's a little backstory why Santana softens like that.**

**Thanks for reading**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hahaha sorry now I really forget what I was going to say. **

**So here is the next chapter.**

**I actually wanted them to have the 'date' this chapter, but I just seemed to have too much fun and without realizing it this chapter was getting long. So the next chapter is going to be focused pretty much on their dinner.**

**And while writing this fic I was pretty... distracted. So let me know for the, you know, odd stuff that pops up.**

**Enjoy reading**

* * *

"Britt."

"Hm?"

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

Santana turned around from the mirror she was facing, staring at the sight of giddy smile that came from Brittany instead.

"That!" Santana pointed at Brittany's giddy smile that disappeared in an instant when pointed. She pressed her lips together instead, resulting in a funny look in her expression that made Santana felt torn between laughing and irritated.

"It's only a _dinner. _A dinner!"

Brittany laughed, "I know," and then Santana pounced her on the bed and began tickling her until Brittany surrendered, "I swear! I know, okay, sorry, no!" She laughed breathlessly, and Santana got off, grinning slightly.

Santana looked back into the mirror and saw the wrinkles in her dress, immediately sighing. She began patting it. Quinn did say to keep the clothing simple and casual, and her dress right now was the right one; her personal favorite. They were just going to BreadstiX, after all.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Brittany grinning again. But this time she settled with rolling her eyes.

"It's just, I can't believe it," Brittany laughed freely, "you're dating!"

"We're not dating!" Santana blushed profusely, her hands immediately stopped messing with her dress.

"You know what I mean."

"Having dinner and _dating _are different in meaning, Britt."

"No, what _I _mean," Brittany said, stepping off from the bed and stood beside Santana, tidying her hair, "she asked you to dinner at the time you were having one of your most horrible moods—"

"Gee, thanks, Britt."

"—_but _you came to your car like—me on Christmas! You know how I get when it's Christmas."

"I'm pretty sure I didn't bounce into the car and jumped on your stomach, B." Santana said, smiling slightly.

"Well, yeah, the difference is that you hide it," Brittany grinned, "not to mention you two were just fighting at the party. I saw you. Your mood just changes rapidly around her."

Santana's mouth opened slightly, before closing it again.

She suddenly remembered what Quinn did from the stairs.

"Don't ever underestimate the power of Super People-Woman, San."

"Super… People-Woman…?" Santana asked, perplexed. _That _definitely caught her attention.

"I'm like a superhero at reading you, so, you know," Brittany shrugged, "oh, that means I should be called Super Reading-Santana Woman."

That cracked a smile from Santana. The latter hummed.

"Really original, Britt."

Brittany only gave her a nod as she continued helping Santana prepare herself for the dinner.

"I know."

* * *

"Judy!"

Kurt greeted cheerily as soon as Judy opened the door, and the older woman quickly enveloped him in a quick hug.

"There's my little boy! Where's Hayley? Not with you?"

Kurt released her, "Oh, she's searching for her phone. It fell when she's driving."

Judy furrowed her eyebrows, "Fell when she's driving?"

"She was texting and another car was close to hitting us, but we swerved in time and the other car hit some—H! Mama Judy's asking for you!"

Hayley, with her typical indifferent expression, ascended the stairs, "Yeah I've found it—Judy?" Judy's face was suddenly pale. She stared at Hayley with her eyes wide. The latter looked to Kurt, "What did you do to her?"

"I don't know…" Kurt frowned, before shrugging, "Well, we've got to prep Quinn for her date. We're going up! Later, Judy!"

Hayley shrugged and followed Kurt upstairs, before halting herself "Oh, I brought your favorite coffee for you." She gave Judy the cup she was holding.

Judy, rather than taking the cup, just stared at Hayley with a shocked look like there was a ghost behind her. Hayley looked behind her with a perplexed expression, before feeling creeped out herself and slowly stepped into the house.

"I'm just gonna—"Hayley pointed to the kitchen with her thumb, "You know, put it there… or something."

* * *

"You want a word of advice?" Hayley asked, sitting down on Quinn's bed while waiting for Kurt to finish fussing with Quinn's attire. She had said to him _simple and casual, _but the way he was fussing over her it seemed like she was going to the Golden Globe Awards for nominations or something. Thank God she was the one to pick the dress.

"Um… yeah?" Quinn asked, frowning.

"Don't ever, I mean, don't _ever," _Hayley shook her head, pointing with her index finger, "have sex on the first date."

"That's a very useful advice, H," Kurt said, without taking his eyes off Quinn, trying to find something he could fix, "experienced that the hard way."

Quinn huffed heavily. _This is what happens when they come over._

"I'm not going on a date."

"No, you're not," Kurt affirmed, "you're just going to a dinner in your most favorite restaurant _ever _with a girl that you've crushed on since sophomore year."

"Sophomore year?" Hayley asked.

"The first time the sexual tension was created." Kurt answered, and Hayley hummed in acknowledgement. That was the first time the two of them met.

Quinn rolled her eyes and released a heavy sigh.

"Could you just finish fixing whatever you said you're going to fix?"

* * *

It was 6 pm, and Hayley had gone home with Kurt. Quinn and Santana had agreed on half an hour before seven for Quinn to pick the brunette up.

Yep, she had Santana's number.

Weird, right? Her best friends were apparently very sneaky. Santana must've thought of her as some sort of stalker now.

Quinn sighed.

"Good luck Quinnie!"

Quinn felt her face flushed in embarrassment, "Mom," she whispered loudly, "go inside!"

"Nope."

Quinn shook her head and headed to her car, and right before she stepped the last stair from the front porch, Judy called her.

"Oh, Quinn!" Quinn turned to face her mother, "um, don't text while you're driving, okay?"

Quinn scrunched her eyebrows, "…okay, mom?"

Judy seemed satisfied and smiled, "You can have 'sleepover' if you want afterwards. I won't tell your father."

Quinn groaned.

* * *

"Is your mom going to be home today?"

Santana glanced at the front door, before shaking her head.

Brittany stared at Santana sadly from the wall she was leaning on, arms crossed.

"You want to sleep at mine after the date?"

"It's not a date."

"After the _dinner._"

Santana pressed her lips together while looking down, before looking up at Brittany and smiled gratefully, "It's okay, B."

"It's not."

"Yeah, but…"Santana sighed, "I don't want to inconvenience your parents."

"They don't mind." Brittany insisted.

"Your parents sleep at nine. It would be rude to sneak in like some thief, Britt."

"Well then sleep over at Quinn's instead."

Santana's eyes bulged, "You're crazy! No!"

"From your story they seem to _really _like you." Brittany shrugged.

"But—"Santana sighed, "No, Britt, just—no."

Brittany looked sad for a moment.

"I don't want to find you all bloody because of shards when I pick you up tomorrow morning."

"Britt, that wasn't—"

The sudden knocks on the door made them both snapped their necks toward the source of the sound.

"That'd be Quinn." Santana stood up from her couch and grabbed her keys along with her purse.

Brittany, looking defeated, followed Santana out and hugged the shorter girl before she had a chance from opening the door and gave her a smile.

"Have a good time, San."

Santana smiled back at her softly, before turning around and opened the door.

Upon opening the door, Santana froze. She didn't offer any sort of greeting, or even move her body in the slightest. Brittany frowned, and decided to peek over Santana's shoulder.

She was torn between wanting to laugh at the scene or regretting even peeking in the first place, because her head that apparently popped out from behind Santana's shoulder snapped Quinn from her staring. And it was until she called Santana and shook her shoulder, that she realized Santana was also staring.

Brittany silently rolled her eyes. They were lucky Quinn decided to keep it simple and casual. With just this they're already having eye-sex. _Those so many times these two wasted fighting could be used for having sex. _

"Hey Quinn." Brittany smiled wide in greeting.

"Oh, hey, Brittany," Quinn cleared her throat, and Santana looked awkwardly between them, "you're coming too?" Quinn asked.

Brittany sent her a funny look, which Santana nudged her for it.

"Of course not," Brittany laughed, "I should go home, though. You enjoy your—"

"Dinner." Santana quickly said for her, sending her a pointed look.

Brittany grinned, "Right, dinner. Bye! Careful driving there!" and she began walking off to her home.

Quinn furrowed her eyebrows, "What's wrong with some people and me driving today?"

Santana stepped forward before shrugging slightly, clearly showing she was a little bit reluctant to go with Quinn, "Maybe you suck at it."

And maybe that had something with how often Santana's insults were thrown at her, or maybe her tone didn't have the slight malice in it, or maybe it had something to do with Santana breaking down last night…

Quinn didn't find herself offended even the slightest, or irritated, like usual. Instead, she found herself smiling and shaking her head.

"Okay, get in my car, Lopez."

Santana frowned, "You don't sound like you want to kidnap me. At all."

"Well that's a shame because I do want to kidnap you," Quinn said, gesturing her car, "Go in, we're not going to BreadstiX."

Santana turned to Quinn with a confused expression, "What?"

"You heard me."

"What—where the hell are we going?"

"I did say I want to kidnap you, right?"

* * *

**I'm kind of distracted by many things recently, so the update probably won't be fast. but thank you for reading, have a good day :):)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Glee's not mine**

**Enjoy reading**

* * *

Quinn was driving, the two in silence, as the blonde didn't even glance once Santana's way. The latter nervously played with her hands together, glancing at Quinn from the corner of her eye.

Quinn had turned on the radio once they got in the car, and it effectively played _I've Got A Crush On You _by Michael Bublé, playing so smoothly in the background_. _And the tan girl immediately blushed, thanking the dim light provided by the road lights and the darkness it caused. Flashbacks to the little staring contest happening when she opened the door sent warmth to her cheeks. And her chest.

She hadn't expected Quinn to be so kind, to the extent that she fulfilled the promise (which was not a promise, by the way. She just said she _would_), after all those mutual hatred and fights, to treat her to something which apparently wasn't BreadstiX. She had half-hoped it would be BreadstiX since she was not familiar to any other restaurants in town.

That was the only restaurant she had ever been brought to by her former boyfriends.

Other people would not even bother after so many poor treatments received or given, but apparently, Quinn wasn't just other people.

Maybe, just maybe, opening up to Quinn wouldn't be such a bad idea. Santana scoffed internally.

Suddenly, a light laughter from the driver's seat snapped her out of her trance.

"Whatever thoughts you're having must be pretty important, huh?"

Santana shrunk into her seat, frowning, "The song."

"What's wrong with the song?" Quinn asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"It's depressing."

"It's called class, Miss Lopez."

"Keep talking like that. You sound like my personal chauffeur."

"I _am _your chauffeur for the night," Quinn grinned slightly, "except you don't know where we're going."

Santana glanced at Quinn. Her eyes slightly widened without her consent.

Quinn was captivating, with the only lights emanated from neighborhood and the road lights to make her rather short blond hair looked glowing slightly, and her face made her look like sort of an angel.

She caught herself staring, and once again blushed.

"Why are you nice to me?" Santana asked, her voice was void of anything else besides pure curiosity. And slightly insecure. That made Quinn sad.

Quinn looked Santana's way, "Well, you're not exactly snarky either."

Santana huffed petulantly, "I mean, you know, after the way we treated each other."

"I don't know," Quinn smiled, "after last night, I thought there must be more of you than what I usually saw."

Santana's eyes widened at the admission and she squirmed. She didn't like the thought of being read openly by others.

"There isn't."

Quinn grinned, "There must be a reason why Brittany sticks with you, you know that. And since Brittany's a wonderful person, I'm sure a person she adores is possibly if not more, just as wonderful as she is."

Santana opened her mouth, about to reply, when she noticed the place in front of her they were about to enter.

"You're bringing me to BreadstiX, you liar." Santana frowned.

"Nah," Quinn chuckled, "No, I know you like the breadsticks. We'll just have take-outs."

"Shouldn't we order something before we can get breadsticks?"

Quinn shrugged, "I'll order meatballs."

Santana was quiet for a moment, staring at Quinn with a blank expression.

"What?" Quinn asked, as she finished parking her car and turned off the engine.

"No, it's just," Santana muttered, "that's Brittany's favorite meal."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She always orders it with me."

"Okay then, I'll order something else."

Santana looked strangely at Quinn, who was about to open the car door.

"Why?"

"Oh, you know," Quinn said, opening the car door, "that's your and Brittany's thing. I wouldn't want you to order meatballs and be reminded of two people."

Santana followed Quinn out of the car, her face contorted into one of confusion.

"Is that even relevant?"

"Yeah," Quinn walked around her car to Santana's side, and confidently offered her hand, "I don't like being doubled."

The confidence, or really, her no fear of being rejected (those two are different things) in Quinn's action kind of threw her off. She hesitantly looked down onto Quinn's hand.

"Come on," Quinn laughed, "I'm not gonna bite."

Santana bit her lower lip, an action that made Quinn tilt her head and stared at Santana rather adoringly.

Apparently Quinn's an expert at handling herself to people. Santana's no expert at opening herself to people.

Maybe they could work, you know, being together.

Be friends, that is.

Santana reluctantly placed her hand on top of Quinn's outstretched one. Quinn immediately gripped it gently, and a grin broke out onto her face.

Santana didn't like this.

She didn't want to feel anything.

"Let's go in, shall we?"

* * *

They were back in Quinn's car, bringing take-outs. As expected, Santana took away too many Breadsticks, and Quinn ordered a cheeseburger.

Quinn was nothing but lovely, there was just something that was just…

Santana's notorious for her breadsticks obsession between the waiters that worked there long enough. So when a waitress, blonde hair and green eyes, quite in the older age, came up to them almost hesitantly to take their orders—which Quinn learned later named Sandy—and saw them holding hands, her eyebrows immediately furrowed.

Santana knew her enough to know that she wondered why anyone would date someone as crazy as her, but Quinn noticed the expression and took it the wrong way. She thought the waitress was homophobic.

When they were about to pay and Sandy asked unsurely if Quinn was her girlfriend, Quinn was the one who answered.

And boy. Did the answer throw her off.

"No," She said, rudely, "She's my wife. We've been married since we're toddlers and we have enough kids to form a soccer team."

So it was rather understandable when their meals were slammed in front of them and Sandy didn't even glance their way, leaving with a loud huff.

"God, that was rude." Quinn had commented when they were back in the car, and Santana couldn't stop laughing. Sandy's expression was hilarious.

"_You _were rude," Santana laughed, "did you see her face? It was _priceless. _My entire time there I've never made her expression like—that! And I was mean to her."

Quinn chuckled lowly, enjoying the look of pure joy on Santana's face. It might be a little mean, laughing about someone's misfortune, but hey, it was not her fault.

"Yeah but she was homophobic," Quinn muttered, "it's not like two girls holding hands is going to kill her. Come on."

Santana giggled.

Quinn smiled at Santana's joyous expression as she started the engine.

"No, I'm pretty sure it was because she had—has, a grudge on me. She was just wondering why someone like you would date someone like me. Um, not date, I mean, you know, in her eyes."

Quinn chose to ignore Santana's avoidance on the word date and raised her eyebrow, "And how would you describe someone like me?"

Santana, with a sudden realization, blushed.

"I mean, you know," Santana said, "she isn't too thrilled about my obsession with breadsticks. She thinks I'm crazy."

Quinn hummed, "Didn't answer the question."

Santana rolled her eyes, "Your ego is way too high, Quinn."

Quinn laughed, as she began driving her car out of the parking lot.

* * *

"We're here."

Santana looked around.

They're still in a neighborhood.

Only, different neighborhood. _Where the hell is this?_

"Look to the left."

The tan girl obliged. Her eyes widened.

"Are you going to kill me?"

Quinn grinned, "Tempting, but no. We're having a picnic."

Santana's jaw dropped, "You're not serious. At this time of night?"

Quinn shrugged, "The view's good."

"You just want to take advantage of me."

"I won't be opposed to that," Santana's eyes bulged, "come on, let's go."

"We're having picnic in the _woods_?"

"No, _behind _the woods. Just come with me, come on. Oh, and help me bring the things from the trunk."

Santana stared at Quinn who got out of the car and slammed close the car door, jaw dropped open.

"You've got to be _kidding me._"

* * *

"You okay there?"

Santana grumbled, thanking whoever was up there she chose not to wear heels and her favorite dress didn't end below the knees. Because if it did, it would seriously be messed up.

When they were getting things out of Quinn's car, the blonde just brought out a picnic basket that she didn't even know what it contained. Quinn didn't even tell Santana to help bring it into the woods, she just locked the car and told Santana to bring the take-outs and follow her.

She really wanted to say that this was a bad idea, going with Quinn. Quinn was unpredictable, and Santana was scared of how things would turn out at the end of their… outing. And she also experienced new kinds of feelings she really didn't like…

Quinn kept quiet, as if she knew this reaction would come out of Santana. She looked like she didn't mind and just smiled every time the tan girl let out a little whine, or like she just did, grumbled.

"Watch your step."

"Can't, it's freaking dark."

Quinn rolled her eyes, "No it's not. Just watch your step and you'll be fi—"

Suddenly, Santana screamed beside her. Quinn's eyes widened, and she dropped her picnic basket and scrambled to catch Santana.

The cheerio had closed her own eyes in the process, afraid at whatever she was going to fell into on the dark ground when she tripped on something (which she didn't even know what), and when she felt warmth of a body beneath her, her face immediately took a deep shade of red.

Quinn groaned, feeling a sharp pain in her upper arm.

"I told you to watch your step."

Santana lifted herself by her hands, and slowly struggled to open her eyes. She found Quinn grinning at her from below, her blond hair sprawled out gorgeously on the ground.

"You're blushing."

Santana's eyes widened.

"N—no I'm not!"

"Yes you are," and then Quinn laughed, "cliché, huh?"

She was about to ask what was cliché, when she realized she had been lying on top of Quinn the whole time, who _just_ cushioned her fall.

"Oh shit, are you—are you okay?" Santana hastily tried to get up, and accidentally nudged Quinn's injured arm in the process. Actually, she hit a lot of Quinn's limbs on the way of getting up, causing the blonde girl to whine in pain.

"Check the basket."

Was Quinn's reply.

Santana rolled her eyes. She could worry about the damn basket later, "Where does it hurt?"

"You won't be able to see it, Santana, it's a bit dark," Quinn said, "let's just continue walking there."

"Can you even walk?"

"I can fly."

Santana smacked Quinn's left arm, which unfortunately, was the injured arm. Quinn moaned loudly in pain.

Santana's eyes bulged out, before it softened again, "So that's where it hurts."

Quinn gritted her teeth, "Thanks for finding it out, Doctor."

Santana mumbled, "Shut your mouth." And she unceremoniously put a hand under Quinn's back, and urged Quinn's right hand to circle her neck. Helping Quinn to stand up, she picked the basket Quinn dropped with her other free hand.

"Thanks."

Santana hummed in a petulant way.

"My feet are fine, though."

The tan girl quickly released Quinn and pushed the blonde lightly.

"Jerk." Santana huffed.

The quarterback laughed, before outstretching her hand. Santana eyed it with a skeptical look.

"The basket." Quinn informed her, wiggling her fingers.

Santana sighed, pulling the basket out of Quinn's range, "Just lead the friggin' way."

Quinn raised her eyebrow, "Okay," she said, "It's heavy."

"You're no stronger than me, Fabray."

Quinn chuckled, "Of course I'm not," she walked forward, and Santana followed her. This time she kept a close look on where her feet landed, "you are, in a way."

Santana looked up at Quinn's compliment, blinking. But Quinn didn't stop walking in front of her, and Santana couldn't see the expression on her face. Quinn was practically talking to her without facing her. She could only see her blond hair that kind of glowed under the moonlight. Or was it just her imagination?

She hadn't counted on how many times that blond hair caught her attention today.

Quinn rubbed her upper left arm, wincing occasionally. Her dress wasn't white, but she was sure it was messed up, if even slightly. She sighed. But she'd rather have her dress ripped off than Santana getting hurt. She tilted her head, wondering about the sudden protective feeling.

"We're here."

Quinn said, leaning against the latest tree they passed as she glanced up the moonlight, smiling in satisfaction. Santana's footsteps moved forward slowly, passing Quinn and the last row of trees.

The footballer smiled at the sight of Santana slowly froze in her steps, her mouth slowly opened and her expression showed that of wonderment. She chuckled soundlessly. She guessed that meant she didn't choose the wrong place.

"Quinn."

Quinn just smiled, waiting for the other girl to continue.

"It's…"

"Beautiful?" Quinn filled, not moving from her position.

"How did you find this place?" Santana turned to Quinn, a disbelief expression etched on her face. She looked around the grassy field and the lights adorning it.

The place was decorated beautifully, hinting that it was actually a place that people frequently visit. In the middle of it was a big pond, which shone beautifully because of the moonlight.

The girl laughed, before pointing to the front.

Santana, puzzled, looked to where Quinn was pointing.

"What?" She asked.

"That's a public road there, can't you see?"

Santana turned around, and her mouth dropped open.

"Then why did you choose to go through the woods?" Santana asked incredulously, "See what that did to your arm!"

"Uh, that technically wasn't my fault," Quinn grinned, "but people tend to come here at nights. And many of them tend to sit next to that road, and it's further walking from there anyway."

Santana sighed, "You're unbelievable."

"I am."

Santana looked at Quinn, and the latter stared back. Santana's expression was unreadable. Finally, the tan girl broke eye-contact and set the picnic basket down. She opened it and shook her head.

"No wonder your basket is freaking huge."

Quinn stepped forward, wondering what she was looking at.

Santana pulled something out of the basket, revealing itself to be a picnic blanket, and set it down on the grass. She also pulled a blanket out and patted the side beside her.

"Come here and let me look at your arm."

Quinn glanced at her own left arm, blinking.

"Uh, it'll heal."

"Stop being stubborn and let me see."

Quinn sighed and obliged, sitting down beside Santana who unceremoniously pulled her left wrist to her.

"You have a napkin?"

Quinn nodded towards the picnic basket, "In the basket."

As Santana tended through the cut on Quinn's left arm, she would occasionally glance at Quinn's expression.

She didn't know what was what, but seeing Quinn's serene, peaceful and content expression sent warmth through her body and made her felt safe, something that she hadn't felt in a really long time.

She didn't know that thought was going to lead her through things she had made sure to avoid her entire life.

* * *

**So that's it, I couldn't help myself! I was in a fluffy mood when writing this. Well, thank you for reading, and the favs and the follows and the reviews that you all have given!**


End file.
